A Cycle of Seasons
by Lime Sweet Pea
Summary: When everything goes horribly wrong at a crime scene, Stella is left to fear for the life of the man she has come to love. Mac/Stella.
1. Winter

**So here it is, my first story. I hope everyone will enjoy it. I'm a little nervous about the idea so hopefully it works out. And thank you in advance to anyone who takes a read!**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and the CBS company, not little ole' me. **

**A Cycle of Seasons**

**Chapter One: Winter**

* * *

She watched from her office window as winter made itself known.

The same view usually offered her a variety of colors: the golden yellow of the taxi cabs, the forest green of the trees, and the neon shades of the numerous billboards that graced the city skyscrapers. On that particular day however, none of them were in sight, but instead her olive eyes scanned over a city covered in white.

When she had gone to bed the night before, the news reports had warned New Yorkers of a winter storm heading in their direction. Stella however had come to lightly trust the warnings of the TV meteorologists and hadn't expected much to happen.

Yet when she awoke the next morning, she was greeted to a winter wonderland outside of her bedroom window, creating an even brighter morning glow throughout her apartment. The sight had left her with a smile on her face, one that she carried all the way to work and remained on her face as she stared out of her office window.

That same smile caught the attention of a particular passerby.

"I see someone's having a good morning."

Unaware of his presence, Stella jumped slightly, her head whipping around. "Mac," she breathed out, resting her hand over her heart.

Mac smiled as he came to stand next to her, watching her closely with his soft blue eyes. "You okay? You normally don't scare that easily."

Stella couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her lips. "I guess I was just in my own little world for a minute there," she offered, turning back to the window. "It's beautiful isn't it?"

Mac followed her gaze to the view of the city. He shrugged, putting his hands in his pocket. "I guess you could say that."

"Winter is my favorite season you know."

Mac glanced at her. "I know."

This time, it was Stella's turn to look in his direction. "You do?"

Mac nodded. "You told me. Something about growing up and how you use to love to play in the snow."

Stella laughed, the memory of her telling him coming back to her. "Yeah, that's it." She paused, her eyes going back to the snow. "I guess it was the one thing that didn't just happen to kids with families. Everyone got to enjoy it," she paused, smiling to herself at one of the few positive moments of her childhood. "I remember I used to love building snowmen."

"Were they any good?" Mac questioned with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Stella snorted at his question. "Were they any good? Mac, I was the snowman building queen, okay."

Mac chuckled. "I'll take your word for it."

"What about you?" she asked.

"Well I wasn't the snowman queen, if that's what you mean," he responded dryly, the signature of Mac's humor.

"I meant did you like the snow when you were younger?"

Mac shook his head. "Not really. I hate getting my feet wet."

Stella laughed at loud, shaking her head as Mac watched her with a growing smile. "Come on Mac, you lived in Chicago. You had to at least like playing in the snow a little bit."

Mac shrugged his shoulders. "I was known to throw a mean curveball when it came to snowball fights."

Stella opened her mouth to say something but the ringing of a phone interrupted. "That's yours," she pointed out to him with a smirk.

He reached into his pocket and answered the phone, bringing the shrilling ring to an end. "Taylor."

Stella turned her attention back to the window while Mac answered his call. Her eyes followed the few flakes of snow that still fell from the sky. Though she was inside, it was almost like she could feel the chill of the snow, sending a small shiver up her spine.

"That was Flack," Mac said, bringing her back to reality. "A body was found in an abandon house down on 45th."

Stella let out a breath, turning completely to face Mac. "I'll drive."

* * *

The drive was a long one, thanks in part to the streets that still held layers of snow. Luckily Stella's skillful driving awarded them in a safe arrival.

As pulled up in what they could only assume use to be a driveway, they couldn't help but take Flack's description to heart. The building was old, with a brick exterior that was littered with paint chippings. The windows no longer held glass but instead wooden boards, most of which were covered with graffiti.

Stella stared up at the house as she exited the car. "Pretty."

Mac kept his eyes focused as he led the way into the front door, nodding at the uniformed officer standing there. Once he entered, the chill of the outside didn't go away, leaving him to understand that the boarded windows did little to keep the heat in.

His eyes caught glance of the body laying off to the right. Stella followed his lead as they moved closer.

Once they reached it, Mac grimaced, noticing the multiple bullets wounds on the chest of the victim. The blonde man had a young, clean cut face. His body was lean, as if he was still a teenager.

"He can't be over 21," Stella commented as she sat her kit down and began using the camera that hung around her neck.

"I'm guessing he comes from some type of money. His jeans looked pressed and his shoes are new," Mac commented.

"So what's he doing here?" she inquired.

"Enjoying a snow day," Flack said, coming up from behind. "Kid's name is Kevin Crane. Found his permit in his wallet. He's 17."

"Who discovered the body?" Mac and Stella both spoke at the same time.

A small smirk appeared on Flack's face as his electric blue eyes darted between his two companions. "Not the first time we've had this conversation."

Stella shook her head with a smile while Mac held Flack's gaze. "The body?"

"Some guy named Mike Williamson. He's a freelance photographer. He said he was here to take pictures and then he found this."

"Do we know…" a loud thump from above their heads caused Stella to stop mid sentence.

All three heads shot up in curiosity. Flack was the first to look away has he glanced in the direction of the front door. "Hey Michaels, you clear the upstairs?" he called out to the uniform.

The young red headed cop poked his head in. "Yeah, I did."

"By yourself?" Flack prodded.

"Yes sir."

Flack glanced at Mac and Stella who were both watching him. "He's new," he offered as he reached for the gun on his holster.

Mac and Stella quickly did the same as they followed Flack back past the front door and into the other side of the building.

There was a staircase against the far wall, leading to the upstairs. Flack glanced back to make sure they were close behind before slowly making his way up, step by step.

When he reached the top, he quickly pointed his gun in all directions, his trained eyes scanning over every door. He headed left, looking back at Mac and Stella, motioning for them to move in the other direction.

Nodding in comprehension, Mac moved to the right while Stella moved to the door directly in front of the steps.

She reached for the knob, pausing only slightly for a moment before turning it and pushing the door open, quickly pointing her gun in every direction. When she realized the room was empty, she backed out.

Doing the same from the room next to her garnered the same result. After leaving that room she saw Flack coming up to her.

"I got nothing," he said.

"Me either," she answered before her head whipped towards the direction Mac walked.

With Flack behind her, they walked swiftly down the long hallway, leading to a door on the end.

That was when all hell broke loose.

"He's in here," Mac shouted, prompting Stella and Flack to run the rest of the way. Before they were able to reach the door, they heard it.

The shot.

Stella felt her heart leave her chest as she reached the door. Her eyes scanned the room, hoping to see Mac standing with his gun in his hand.

Instead she was greeted to a sight she would never soon forget. Mac was lying on the floor, his chest moving rapidly up and down. Blood slowly pooled from a would that wasn't visible from their view.

"Mac!" she screamed as she dropped her own gun and ran towards him, leaning over him, her eyes searching his for any sign of life. His eyes were open but she could see the life leaving them. "Mac." Her hand lightly tapped his face, hoping to keep him focused on her. "I'm here Mac," she said, her own tears dropping onto his skin.

As her attention stayed on Mac, she didn't hear Flack fire his gun, killing the man who was attempting to climb from the window. Nor did she hear him yelling into his radio for EMS.

For his part, Flack was doing his best to hold it together. However, once his eyes found the wound on the side of Mac's head, he quickly found himself panicking. He moved close to Stella, who was doing her best to keep Mac awake. His hand ran through her hair as Mac's gaze drifted from Stella's.

"Mac, I need you to stay with me, okay. Please," she pleaded with her voice cracking. "Please Mac."

* * *

**Yes? No? Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Spring

**So first off, I want to say thank you so much for all of the reviews and alerts for the first chapter. I was so overwhelmed by the feedback so for that I want to say thank you. I also want to thank zeebra to who's review I couldn't reply to for some reason. **

**So here's chapter two and I hope everyone likes it. **

**A Cycle of Seasons**

**Chapter Two: Spring**

* * *

She watched from the hospital window as spring made itself known.

Gone were the chills and frost of winter. April slowly entered New York City, bringing color and life with it. Like every year, the color scheme of the city changed. Instead of whites and grays that existed with the previous season, the city was now a canvas of pinks and greens, blues and yellows. People found their way outside again, eating on the balconies of cafés, laughing in the warmth of the city.

Stella wished that she could be one of them, out in the air enjoying the season with optimism. But she couldn't.

It had been three months since the shooting. Three months that Mac remained in a coma. Three months that Stella spent visiting the hospital.

There hadn't been a day that Stella didn't come to see Mac. She had been told that coming everyday wouldn't be necessary and that if anything changed with his condition, she would be the first call. Still, Stella knew that she had to be there. She knew that she needed to be there in case he would happen to wake up.

Yet as she stood in the room, staring out at the bright city skyline, she began wondering if that day would ever come.

The doctors had emphasized the great possibility that still existed of Mac waking up. But as everyday went by, she could feel herself losing hope.

Sadly, Stella found herself getting use to it. She was use to watching Mac lay there, his chest moving up and down in a rhythmical pattern that had not changed at all over the course of his time there. She was use to the constant beeping of the monitor; so much that she really no longer could hear it. She was use to the nurses entering daily, marking down the day count of Mac's time in a coma on the clipboard at the end of the bed. She was use to the head nurse telling her that visiting times were over and that she should go home and get some sleep. And she was use to the same head nurse, letting out a sorry sigh as she would allow Stella to stay longer.

She heard the door opening behind her, and despite knowing who it was she still turned around.

Lily Reynard, the nurse assigned to the dayshift, looked over at Stella as she made her way into the room. "Afternoon Stella," she greeted warmly.

Stella did her best to muster a smile to the older woman. "Hi Lily. How are you?"

Lily snorted rather loudly as she picked up the clipboard on Mac's bed, her short black bob swinging back and forth. "Okay except for the fact that Michael failed another math test. I tell ya, that boy is becoming more and more like his father every day."

Stella smiled as she watched Lily scribble on the clipboard, still talking. She had come to really enjoy the older woman's presence. Lily was the only nurse that didn't treat her like the friend of a patient who may never wake up. Instead, Lily would come in everyday with a new story, whether about her sons or her husband. And each day, it would give Stella a moment of release from thinking about Mac.

"I'm sure he'll do fine next time," Stella offered, realizing that Lily had stopped talking.

The woman nodded as she put the board down and capped her pin. "He better. Or I might be calling you to arrest him for stressing me out."

Lily's comment earned a small chuckle from Stella. "I'll see you tomorrow sweetie," she offered before heading towards the door.

However, before she could reach the handle, it swung open, revealing a tired looking Don Flack on the other side.

With her hand over her heart in surprise, Lily let out a playful laugh. "Oh, Detective Flack, you almost scared the personality out of me."

Flack grinned at the woman who he had also come to know, holding the door completely open for her. "Well we wouldn't want that now would we?"

Lily laughed as she patted Flack on the arm. After she left, he entered the room.

His gaze landed on Mac for a moment before moving to Stella.

"Don, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged lightly. "I was on my way home and I figured I'd stop in, see how you were doing."

Stella shrugged as she crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to meet his gaze. "I'm fine."

Flack watched her closely, his hands moving to the pockets of his jeans. "No you're not Stell," he said slowly.

Not wanting to break down in front of him, Stella remained silent, turning her attention back towards the view from the window.

"Look Stell," Flack continued. "I'm not doing any of this to try and make you upset. I'm just worried about you. You're my friend and I can tell that you're not doing so well."

"How can I? Mac's in a coma and he may never wake up," she replied, her voice surprisingly calm.

"Stella, I understand...,"

"Please don't say you understand how I feel," she interrupted. "I'm tired of people saying that they understand what it's like because they don't," she said, her voice growing louder in frustration. She felt the tears begin to roll down her face but gave up trying to hide them.

"Everyone keeps telling me that they understand what it's like or how it feels and I get that they're trying to be supportive but it doesn't help," she continued, her gaze never leaving the window. "So I appreciate what you doing Don but please stop. I mean, how would you know what it feels like to know that you may never get to tell someone that you love them?"

This time, it was Don who turned towards the window. "I know exactly what that's like," he said quietly.

It took Stella a minute before the realization hit her. She immediately turned toward Don, her hand on her head. "Oh God, I'm so sorry Don. I didn't even think about Jess," she quickly told him, her voice dripping with regret.

Don glanced down at her shorter frame. "It's okay Stella. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

Stella sighed, still feeling guilty. She looked at Don with sorry eyes and brought a hand to his shoulder. "You loved her?" she asked as a question but it almost could be taken as a statement.

"Yeah, I did. And the sad part is that I don't think I even realized it until after she was killed," he admitted. "Take it from somebody who's been down that road before. Take advantage of every moment that you have. I knew all along that you loved Mac. And I also happen to know that he loves you too."

When he saw the surprised expression on Stella's face, he could help but smirk. "Oh come on Stella, everybody knows. You two are just so hard headed that you were the only ones who didn't see it."

Stella felt herself laugh through her tears. "Listen Stell, I don't know any of the doctors here but I do know Sheldon. If he says that there still a large chance that Mac could wake up, then I believe him. You know he wouldn't say that if he didn't think it was possible."

Stella nodded in understanding. Not long after the shooting, Sheldon talked to Mac's entire team of physicians before coming to her and saying he heavily agreed with their optimistic prediction. It had helped her garner some hope but she still had developed doubt.

Flack rubbed a hand on her back before speaking again. "Look, I have to go. Danny's got me on diaper duty so he and Lindsay can go out to dinner."

His comment earned a laugh from Stella. "That should be fun."

"Yeah, I'm hoping," he replied with a smile. "Take care of yourself, okay."

Stella nodded. "I will."

Flack looked at her a moment longer before heading towards the door. As he opened and began to step out, he turned around. "Hey Stella," he said, grabbing her attention.

"Yeah?"

"You know how they always say that people in a coma can still hear you?"

Stella nodded. "Yeah."

Flack didn't reply. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly before completely leaving the room.

Stella sighed for a moment, knowing exactly what he was trying to imply. Her eyes moved to Mac. Despite of everything, he looked surprisingly calm, as he if were just laying down for a nap, which ironically rarely happened with Mac Taylor.

With another sigh, Stella moved closer to him, taking as seat in the chair next to his bed. She gently let her elbows come to rest on the edge of his bed.

Her eyes rested on his face, taking in each of his features. _Please Mac_.

She drew in a deep breath, Flack's advice ringing in her head.

"Hey Mac," she started slowly, not knowing if she should continue. "It's uh, me, Stella." She bit her bottom lip, watching Mac for anything to show he was listening.

Naturally, nothing changed. Growing impatient, Stella could no longer hold back her tears.

A loud groan made its way from her mouth as she stood up from the chair, pushing it back as she did so.

"God Mac, why won't you just wake up?" she said angrily as she began pacing back and forth at the foot of his bed. "You have no idea how much it kills me to see you lying there and knowing that there's nothing that I could possibly do. I mean, I come in everyday and it's always the same," she continued, talking through her tears. "And then I have days when I wonder if it's even worth coming in everyday if you never wake up but then I get so mad at myself for even thinking about not coming in for one minute."

She ran her hands through her curls, as she continued to move around the room. "And you know what else? It's not just me, I mean, we all need you Mac. It's not the same without you. I try my best to lead the team but I know I'm always distracted thinking that maybe at that particular moment, you may be waking up or worse and I can't live like that anymore. I...," she trailed off, only the sound of her breath left in the room.

Unknown to her, the face in the window held a small smile. Flack watched proudly before turning to leave the hospital completely.

In the room, Stella's voice had calmed as she rested her hands on her hips. "Mac, the thing is that I need you to wake up not just for the team, but for me," she paused, letting herself chuckle for a moment. "I don't know if that's selfish or not but it's true. I don't why but it's like ever since I've met you I always held a place in my heart for you and I guess I just never said anything because I was waiting for…," she paused, trying to find the right words. "I guess I was waiting for a sign to show me that it's okay to feel that way about you. I just didn't realize the sign would be the way I'm feeling knowing that you may never know any of this."

She didn't know how but her hand had slowly made its way to his. She squeezed it lightly as she stared down at Mac.

She felt like she was crying but no tears fell from her face. "Mac, I need to know you hear me," she pleaded.

Yet, nothing in the room changed. She continued to stare at his face, closely watching his features for any movement.

Her eyes didn't leave his face until she felt it.

The small amount of pressure on her hand.

Her face turned sharply to his hand, noticing the way his fingers slowly curled around hers.

Her gaze went back to Mac's as her breathing quickened. "Mac, can you hear me?"

The only answer she received was the pressure around her hand tightening. "Mac, if you can hear me, I need you to do something for me. Please, please, just open your eyes."

Stella watched closely as Mac's eyelids fluttered and his mouth opened slightly. She heard the beeps of the monitor quicken as his eyes completely opened, leaving her to see the soft blue orbs for the first time in three months. "Mac," she said, a smile growing on her face as she watched his gaze slowly moved to her.

Mac stared at Stella, his lips moving as he tried to speak. A laugh escaped her lips as she heard him utter a word that she wasn't able to make out.

"What is it Mac?" she asked, rubbing his check gently with her hand.

He repeated what he said and this time, Stella heard it loud and clear.

"Claire?"

* * *

**So please let me know what you think. Chapter three coming soon!**


	3. Summer

**So first off, I apologize for the long delay. School and work has gotten busy again which cause all of my free time to run away. Luckily, it came back so here I am. Only one more chapter after this one. I've started it already so it should be up soon! Thanks again for all of the reviews and feedback I've received on this story. I really appreciate it. **

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and the CBS company, not little ole' me.**

**A Cycle of Season**

**Chapter Three: Summer**

* * *

She watched from the elevator window as summer made itself known.

As she slowly began her ascent upwards, her eyes ran over the bright city skyline, the heat of the air managing to penetrate the glass, leaving her body enveloped in the striking warmth. Summer had entered the city in full swing, presenting availability to outside affairs. There were public concerts, plays in the parks, and countless other venues throughout the city, leaving people to relish in the warmest season of the year.

But for Stella, this summer was different.

It had been three months since Mac woke up. Three months that he spent trying to remember. Three months that she spent hoping he would.

Nevertheless, Stella still did all she could to help him. He was able to come home about a month after he woke up. Still, he had not returned to work.

That was probably the hardest thing to accept. She was use to seeing Mac in her every day life at the lab and now that had changed. She had been expected to fill his position in his absence. She wasn't surprised when Sinclair had approached her about it, yet she was reluctant to do so. There was something in her that felt that the more active she became in his position, the more it would seem like it was a permanent change.

Medically, the doctors had said that it was a 50/50 chance of Mac gaining his full memory back. This fact had both gave Stella hope and scared her to death.

Right now, he still had enough memory to function in his everyday life but the rest of the details were sketchy. He remembered Claire but not 9/11. He remembered working in the lab but not how to. He remembered Stella, but not as a friend, just as a co-worker.

Stella found it hard to accept that in his head, she was just somebody in the office. It felt like they were starting their entire relationship over. There were times when she thought about giving up hope on him but then she would remember how close they were and how much they meant to one another. She came to understand that her heart wouldn't allow it.

That's how she found herself riding the glass elevator up to Mac's apartment, her arms filled with bags of food she acquired on the way there. She had come to make weekly visits to see him when she found time. She knew that she couldn't control time but she figured she could help it a little.

Slowly exciting the elevator, Stella turned in the hallway and made her way to Mac's door. She let out a small sigh as the fatigue from the long day slowly entered her body. Still, she trekked down the long hallway until she found her destination.

Three soft knocks later, the door opened to reveal Mac, clad in a t-shirt and black sweatpants on the other side. She couldn't control it as her eyes made a quick sweep over his toned arms, sending a slight shiver through her body.

"Stella, hi," he spoke, bringing her back to reality.

She felt her heart drop as he spoke. Though he still called her by name, it was different than before. It never held the meaning that it used to. She didn't know if it was really possible to notice a difference in the way your name was said but she could swear that she did. She longed for the day when he said it like he used to.

"Hey Mac. I brought you some dinner," she said with a small smile, motioning to the bags in her hand with a nod of her head.

Mac gave her a similar smile. "Smells good," he offered as he moved aside to let her in the apartment.

"I went to that Chinese food place you go to all the time around the block," she pointed out as she made her way into the familiar kitchen.

She glanced back at Mac and saw the look on his face. Again, her heart dropped but she did her best not to let it show in her face. "It's one of your favorite places," she said softly, not wanting to make the situation a bigger deal than it had to be.

Mac smiled, though it wasn't an honest one. "I'm sure," he said, avoiding her gaze. He moved past her and reached into the cabinets, grabbing two plates.

Stella silently cursed herself for bringing it up. She had always tried her hardest to avoid bringing up anything that he wouldn't remember. Ever since Mac came to realize that his memory loss was somewhat severe, he had been trying his best remember things but he couldn't, at fact greatly frustrated him.

"So, um, how was your day?" she asked, changing the subject.

Mac shrugged as he brought the plates to the table. "Okay I guess. Walked around the city a bit."

Stella paused. She desperately wanted to ask if anything triggered a memory but at the same time didn't want to upset him.

Mac sat down at the table and reached into the bag, removing one of the containers. He opened it and looked inside before shyly looking up at Stella.

"Orange chicken," she said simply as she reached for another container. "And this is my favorite," she said with a growing smirk.

"What is it?" he pondered.

"Curry beef," she boasted proudly, placing a healthy portion on her plate.

Mac watched with a growing frown as he watched her spoon out the food. "None for me. It's way too spicy."

A smile appeared on Stella's face as she took in the fact that he just remembered something. Mac didn't seem to notice as he helped himself to the food on the table.

Stella kept her excitement to herself as the two fell into comfortable silence. Mac spoke a while later, bringing up something he had read in the paper during the day.

The small continued until the meal was complete. Stella had offered to stay and help clean the dishes they had used.

"You don't have to. It's only a couple of things," Mac replied at her offer.

Stella shrugged. "If you're sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured her.

Stella nodded. "Well, I guess I'll head out now," she told him.

She looked over at Mac and frowned at his facial expression. "Mac?"

When he didn't answer, she moved a bit closer. "Mac? Are you okay?"

"Can I ask you something Stella?"

"Sure," she replied, curious to his sudden change in behavior.

"Was I a good guitar player?"

His question caught Stella off guard as she stood still for a moment, not sure of how to answer.

"I found it in the closet so I figured I wouldn't have one if I couldn't play."

Finding her voice, Stella smiled. "Yeah, you were good. You would play in this little jazz club not far from here," she told him. "It was like your secret little hobby," she added with a small chuckle.

"I was quite a character huh?" Mac said with small smile.

"I think you mean are."

"What?" Mac asked, confused at her statement.

"You said 'was' like you're not yourself anymore." Stella paused, knowing that she was changing of the direction of the conversation. "Listen Mac, just because you can't remember every little detail, doesn't mean you're not you. Before the shooting you were Mac Taylor and you still are."

"It doesn't feel like it Stella," he countered, his voice growing louder in frustration. "I live in an apartment full of things that I have no idea of what they represent."

"You have to be patient Mac. You know what the doctors said."

"That doesn't make it easier. There is still a big chance that my memory may never come back and then what. I can't live like this forever."

"It won't be forever," she said reassuringly.

"Do you believe that Stella?"

She paused, his words sinking in. "Mac, I don't know if your memory will come back. But I do believe that you'll learn again and things will get better."

Mac's calm blue eyes stared deeply into hers, searching for the truth behind her words. "I don't know Stella."

Stella watched him sadly. She didn't blame him for his negativity but she still wished she could change it. Watching him move from the kitchen into the living room, she followed slowly behind.

"Listen Mac. Medically, I can't tell you what's going to happen because I don't know. But I do believe that everything will still work out in some way."

Mac just nodded as he sat on the sofa, looking towards the window.

Stella followed his gaze towards the bright sky. The sun was slowly beginning to set creating streaks of both orange and blue across the horizon.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" she asked, breaking the silence. "Summer really can bring the most beautiful sights."

"I thought winter was your favorite season," Mac said suddenly, yet his gaze remained on the sunset.

"What?" Stella asked, surprised.

"Something about growing up and playing in the snow. It was one thing that everyone could enjoy."

Tears slowly found themselves in Stella eyes as Mac continued to reflect on the conversation they had the day of the shooting. She found herself re-answering the question he asked her moments before. Did she really believe that everything would work out?

Without a doubt.

* * *

**One more chapter left! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Autumn

**Hey all!! So, here it is, the final chapter. I'm a little sad to have finished it but I knew from the beginning that this would be the end. I want to give a final thank you to everyone who has read or reviewed. Thank you!! I hope you all enjoy this last chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. It goes to Jerry Bruckheimer and the CBS company.**

**A Cycle of Seasons**

**Chapter Four: Autumn**

* * *

She watched from the car window as autumn made itself known.

As the summer days slowly past, so did the heat that complimented them. Gone were the clear sunlit skies and the green sinuous leaves of the trees. Instead, the city gave way for the cool temperatures of autumn. The color scheme of the city went from the bright blues and yellows of summer to the deep oranges and reds of fall. Winds from the west blew across the city, stirring the immobility of nature.

Stella's gaze remained fixated in front of her, drawing focus to a tree far in the distance. She knew from the sudden stop of the car that they had reached their destination, yet something in her prevented her from moving.

She heard Flack position the car in park and slowly stop the engine. She heard him remove the keys and slide them in his pocket. Then she didn't hear anything and she knew he was watching her.

"Stella." His voice slowly reached her, its tone indicating the sincerity of his feelings.

She wanted to reply, but she couldn't. Her brain wanted to say something but her heart simply wouldn't allow it.

She heard movement beside her and a moment later felt Flack's hand encase hers. "Stella, look at me," he said softly.

His voice was both soft yet serious, a combination successful in causing her to look over.

Her green eyes met his blue ones, yet the clear view was distorted by the tears that were already beginning to form in her eyes.

"You ready?" he asked hesitantly.

She didn't answer but instead turned backed towards the window. This time however, her gaze went towards the cemetery, passing over the many graves until she saw the gathering of people. They were situated under the green tent, seated in rows of gray chairs that had been placed out not to long before. Their backs were to her so she couldn't make out any faces, but she knew they were all there for one reason.

Mac.

It had been three months since the summer day that she thought was the beginning of Mac's recovery. Slowly, his memory did return, leaving Stella in an array of positivity. He began to remember details and facts about his life, including his connection with her.

Yet, before the two could even discuss the topic of their increasing love for each other, Mac's health took a turn for a worse.

One moment she had been lying in bed and the next her phone was ringing. Suddenly she was at the hospital, running to Flack for information.

"_Don," she yelled, grabbing the attention of the young detective. _

_He turned to her, his face showing an emotion she had only seen once on him. It was a look she had hoped she would never see again. _

"_Where's Mac?" she asked frantically when she reached him, ignoring what her instinct was trying to tell her._

_Don opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He watched her, his ice blue eyes still, like they were searching for a way to say something. He shook his head and turned to his left, meeting eyes with Sheldon. _

_Not noticing his presence before, Stella turned to him, her breathing quickening. "Sheldon, where is he?"_

_Doing his best to maintain his composure, Sheldon slowly moved closer to her, his hands outstretched. "There was a problem with his heart Stella."_

_That was all she heard._

_She could see his mouth moving, but no sound reached her ears. As he continued to move closer, she felt herself backing up. _

_Her entire body seemed to lose all feeling. All she could do is think about Mac._

_He was gone._

_It wasn't until her back hit the wall that she realized what was happening. Her legs fell out from beneath her as she collapsed to the ground. _

_Ignoring the voices around her, she called out to the man she loved, praying that he would hear her, but knowing that he couldn't. _

"Stella," Flack spoke, bringing her back to the present.

Finally finding the courage to speak, she looked at him. "I'm ready." Her voice was soft and on the edge of breaking but Flack understood her loud and clear.

As he began to exit the car, Stella slowly did the same. Flack hurriedly made his way over to her side, offering his hand as she finished getting out of the car.

He went to close the door but stop suddenly stopped when he noticed that Stella had not released his hand. He glanced back up at her and saw the apprehensive look in her eyes.

She needed him there for support, both mentally and physically.

Nodding in understanding, Flack closed the door moved to stand next to her. Strengthening his grip around her hand, he slowly began to lead the way to the crowd of people. With her heart beating faster, Stella did her best to stay strong as they made their way up the grass, entering the space underneath the tent.

Her eyes graced over the faces of the people seated in the chairs. Some she immediately recognized. Quinn sat motionless towards the back. Jordan sat dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

Then she saw Peyton sitting next to Sid, holding on to the older man's hand the same way she was currently holding on to Don's.

Mentally, Stella thanked Lindsay for her involvement in the funeral arrangements knowing that she herself was in no way capable of handling it.

She spotted the younger woman seated next to Danny in the front row holding the now two year old Lucy in her lap. The young toddler sat silent in her mother's lap, not fully understanding what was going on. Lindsay rested her head on Lucy's, trying to share in the young girl's innocence.

Danny remained motionless, his eyes lingering on the open casket in front of him. He would occasionally blow air out of his mouth for it was the only thing that would keep him from completely breaking down.

Next to him, Adam sat, visibly distraught. The young man had taken the news hard, knowing that Mac was a man that he greatly looked up to. His eyes were red, indicating the amount of crying he had most likely done in the past few days.

Sheldon was beside Adam. Of all of the team gathered there, he was the most composed. His face was filled with a deep intensity, leaving it hard for most to garner any idea of his current state of mind. But for those who knew him well, it was obvious that he was struggling.

Flack led Stella to the empty seat next to Sheldon, before sitting down on her other side.

She glanced at Sheldon, and moved her free hand to his, causing him to break his distant gaze for the first time since arriving. As he turned to look at her, his eyes watered lightly but never lost the seriousness.

Not long after they sat down, the service started.

Stella would be lying if she said she'd been paying attention because she hadn't. All she could do is focus on the man in front of her, lying still and peaceful in his military uniform.

Mac had been gone a week and she still hadn't come to grips with the entirety of the situation. She knew he was gone, and she knew that he wasn't coming back.

Yet, there was a part of her that couldn't grasp with the fact that it was over.

They were over.

No more morning coffees, afternoon hotdogs, or late night dinners. No more inside jokes or stolen glances.

No more wondering what it would be like to be in a relationship with Mac Taylor. No more wondering what it would be like to become Mrs. Taylor.

No more.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed Danny stand up and make his way over to the podium situated near the casket. She focused her eyes on him as she watched him removed a folded paper from his pocket and place it on the surface in front of him.

Even from where she sat, she could hear him take in a breath as he prepared to read the eulogy.

"Mac Taylor was a man of honor and respect. He always did his best to…," he trailed off, his eyes moving towards Mac's still body as if waiting for a sign. "He was a man who…," again, the words couldn't leave his mouth.

Slowly, his eyes went to the people in front of him. For a moment his gaze met Stella's. Doing her best to give an encouraging smile, she raised the corners of her mouth.

Understanding the gesture, he leaned over on the podium. "You know, it's funny," he started, "I spent the past week trying to write something that was appropriate for today, you know, something not too long or wordy, something that would offer the proper amount of respect, but…," he trailed off. He gathered the papers back in his jacket pocket.

"I realize that this isn't somethin' that can be put on paper." Again, he looked over at Mac.

With his eyes still trained on Mac, he spoke again. "Mac Taylor was a remarkable man. He knew who he was and what he wanted. He knew what was right and he fought hard for it."

With the attention of every person in attendance, Danny removed his view from Mac and went back to those in front of him. Glancing to his now sleeping daughter, he continued.

"He fought for our country. He fought for our city. He fought for each and every one of us."

Danny drew in a tight breath. "I first met Mac when I was still in the academy. I remember when he walked into the precinct, one of the guys whispered to me 'that guy is Mac Taylor. Heard he's a real hard ass.'"

His comment earned him some chuckles, all draped in sadness.

"But in truth, Mac is probably the most honest man I've ever met. I uh, come from a background that most would look down on. I've made some bad choices in my life, that's for sure. But ya see, Mac looked past that. He took a chance on me."

As Danny continued, the emotion in his voice grew more obvious, giving his voice a distinct more vulnerable stand. "He gave me the opportunity of a lifetime. I use to think that there were times when he wished he didn't but he would always tell me that he was proud of me."

Danny paused as he bit the inside of his mouth to keep from crying but his attempt failed as the tears slowly began to stream down his face. "You know, Mac was the kinda guy that I wanna be. He was someone I looked up to."

Stella watched him closely, her own tears streaming down her face. She had always known Danny as a sensitive man but seeing him breakdown in front of her was hard. She glanced down the row beside her to see each member of the team with tears in their eyes.

She looked on her other side to see Don in the same state as everyone else. She watched the tears in his blue eyes glisten, creating a sparkle she would have found beautiful if it weren't for the reason behind it.

Bringing her focus back to Danny, she watched the younger man run a hand over his face in attempt to wipe the tears away.

"For me, growing up wasn't always easy. I mean, I had my mom but I uh, my dad wasn't always there. He tried but we never really connected or anything."

Giving up in try to hide his emotion, Danny was openly crying. His voice was broken but his words still managed to get across. "I know you can't pick your parents but uh…If I could ever…," the sobs overcame his words, making it harder to speak. "If I could ever pick a father…he would definitely be it."

After that, he lost it.

With his head buried in his hands, Danny cried at the podium. His actions were easily mirrored by everyone else at the funeral.

That was the last part Stella really remembered. The rest went by in a blur. She could see other people moving up to say a few words but she didn't hear them. She remembered seeing the coffin being closed and moved into the ground.

She felt Don tug at her hand, saying that it was over. She nodded in comprehension but didn't move.

Still, she felt Don along with everyone else, get up from their seats and move from the tent, presumably heading back to their cars to go to the wake that Lindsay had put together.

Stella stood from her chair but instead made her way through the opposite side of the tent. She left the covering and walked into the cool autumn air.

As she left the tent, Don stood leaning against the car, watching from a distance. He was in no rush for he knew that Stella needed this moment. He knew because he experienced a very similar one.

The wind seemed to pick up as she stood alone, staring at nothing in particular. Slowly, her head moved to look up at the sky. She didn't know why but she found herself laughing through her tears.

"God Mac, I don't know if I can handle this without you," she said out loud.

The bright blue sky seemed to look back at her as she stood there. "I need you Mac."

Another strong gust of wind came from the atmosphere, yet she didn't feel the cold. It was as if she was enveloped in her own personal layer of warmth.

She paused, remaining motionless as she felt the arms surround her and the voice in her ears.

_I'll always be with you Stella._

The voice not only entered her ears, but furthermore it entered her heart.

As the wind slowed and the warmth left her, Stella blew out a breath, as she tried to bring to grasp what she was feeling.

She knew Mac was gone today but he was in her heart forever.

"I love you Mac Taylor."

Realizing that life moves on, Stella took in one last breath and turned to make her way back to the car.

She never heard the faint whisper in the air that came in with the wind.

_I love you too Stella Bonasera. _

* * *

**I know, I know. How could I, right? But for me, it fit with the storyline so please don't hurt me :). By the way, I can't remember the show ever mentioning Danny's father so I just made that detail up. Please tell what you think. Thanks!**


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